#nicoolios

The following folks either haven’t posted their gifts (or haven’t used the Google form to provide the necessary link to those gifts), haven’t asked for extensions, haven’t informed us that a gift was mailed, or haven’t informed us that they need(ed) to drop out (so we could find timely pinch-hitters).

Look, ol’ Harby gets it. Sometimes things happen. Life happens. But when life happens and there’s no communication about it during a gift exchange, people end up with hurt feelings, and Holiday Harbinger ends up burned out trying to hunt people down and arranging last-minute gifts. And this past year has involved quite enough hurt (and burnout, tbh) without adding to it.

So, whatever situation you’re in, I need you to contact holidayharbinger at gmail dot com ASAP so we can get to the bottom of things and/or make sure the currently giftless don’t remain that way.

Please use email. Please. I can’t stress this enough. Email and the google forms are the only way I (and the the inimitable Minion Keeper) are keeping (pun intended) up this year.

As a reminder, if you received a physical gift, it’s your responsibility to post about it. If this is you, please make a post and please USE THE GOOGLE FORM to let us know. And if you posted a digital gift but didn’t use the form? Chances are we have no record of it. 

And one further reminder: When you receive a gift, thank the gifter. They spent time and effort creating something for you.

MIA:

@ladyananas (won’t let me tag; if you know this person, please let them know)

@thatswhatshiisaid (won’t let me tag; if you know this person, please let them know)

@nicoolios

@paradiseismade

@nicoolios​ I am your Holiday Harbinger and this is your Mass Effect Holiday Cheer gift! 

I was really taken with your comment that one of your favorite things about Mass Effect was how everyone rallied around Shepard. I thought it would be fun to explore that a little through Kaidan’s eyes, since there are several squadmates from ME2 he never got to interact with, including one of your favorites: Thane! 

It ended up going somewhere different from what I originally intended, but I’m pleased with the result. I hope you enjoy it! 

Plans

MShenko, 12,220 words, Rating: M

Read it in full on Ao3

Summary: 

Things never went according to plan, not really. Not with Shepard. Eden Prime. Noveria. Virmire. Alchera. Shepard was like a ship that skipped off the atmosphere every time he set a course for re-entry. With Shepard there was no script. No rehearsal. You just had to go with your gut. 

An AI crushing his head against a bulkhead had not been part of the plan.

Kaidan rubbed the bridge of his nose as the asari nurse finished taking his blood pressure, smiled thinly as she informed him he was 100/70 and looked excellent.

“Right,” he said. The effort of pointing out the raging tinnitus in his ears, incessant drumbeats against his skull, and double vision that made a trip to the bathroom rather exciting, was more than he had in him. “Thanks.”

She nodded, cheerful smile painted across her face.

“Flip the light off?” he asked when she reached the door.

“Of course, Major Alenko.”

Not that it made much difference. Turning off the light only ratcheted up the glare of the Presidium out his window. In here, he was surrounded by illness and injury mixed with the smell of antiseptic.

But out there, the Presidium was bright and alive. Rapid transit vehicles zipped past. Shimmering light from the simulated sun cast shadows on the floor around his bed. Outside his window everything continued as normal. If he shut off the extranet, ignored the hushed fretting outside his door about the latest reports and disturbing lack of casualties, the world wasn’t coming to an end. There were no reaper horns on Earth, no beam weapons obliterating the Vancouver skyline, surgically excising humanity like a malignant tumor.

If he just looked out the window he wasn’t trapped in a medical cage, waiting, hoping that the damage done to his amp hadn’t utterly fucked him in ways they didn’t know he could be fucked yet.

Hey @sweet-ree, I’m your Holiday Harbinger for the @holidayharbinger gift exchange and here’s your gift! Your info thingy and your blog showed an affinity for m!shep and James, so I hope you like it.

"I thought I smelled something burning." His voice entered the little kitchenette before his body. That was natural; Commander Shepard seemed out of place everywhere except a battlefield. Every part of him was large, larger-than-life. His body, from years of being the model of N7s. His power, honed from more tragedy than the average lifespan. His personality, larger than all the rest. Commander Shepard in a nutshell: awake in the wrong sleep cycle, walking around sans uniform, poking fun at the one man on the Normandy who could genuinely cook. That nutshell shrank every day, but by God, if the opportunity arose to do something like this, he would take it.

James had been completely engrossed in the complicated task of frying pancakes. This was the first human spaceship he'd served on with actual ingredients to make actual food. Serving under Commander Shepard certainly had its benefits. Benefits only the ground crew seemed to take advantage of. Nothing was, in fact, burning. So the comment caused about three seconds of panic, a few more of realizing everything was fine, and figuring out it was only Shepard. He shimmied the still semi-molten batter one final time before shifting his gaze.

Shepard had strolled to the counter and leaned casually against it. The sight was so normal for the man but so not for the position he held. Shepard without uniform was a casual, happy man always subverting the stereotypes and expectations of such. Witnessing James' panic brought a slight grin to his face. "You know it's only me, amigo. I thought this wasn't your early shift?"

"Yep."